Shadows
by Hollywood Here We Come
Summary: An early-morning rendez-vous has Shane and Mitchie admitting more to each other than they intended. Shane/Mitchie, one-shot.


This story was a burst of inspiration one night while I was supposed to be doing homework. I let some of my friends read it, and they've since been nagging at me to get it posted. [Yes, Celise, I'm talking about you.] Anyway, hope you enjoy it and don't forget to review!

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Shadows.

Black silhouettes against a burnt orange sky. In the distance, he could see the orange fade to white. Behind him, the orange darkened and eventually turned black.

Also behind him was a deadly, poisonous snake.

He was running, running as fast as he could towards the safety of the light. He couldn't let the snake get him, couldn't be dragged into the darkness.

He ran towards the dark silhouette of the girl who stood at the edge of the light. He knew she would save him, if he could get to her. He had to get to her before the snake got to him, before he was swallowed by the black.

His breath was coming in heavy pants now, he was getting so tired. He was almost there, almost at the girl, but could he make it? The snake was so close behind him; he could hear the almost silent hiss that came from its tongue. The girl was reaching out to him, now…

Shane awoke with a cold sweat dampening his forehead. There was no light shining through the curtains that shaded the window, so he knew it wasn't morning yet. The alarm clock on his bedside confirmed it; 2:10 am.

He rolled onto his back, and, wide awake, pressed his palms to his eyes. The nightmare left his heart pounding and his mind racing. Months ago, it wouldn't have surprised him. He'd had that same nightmare every night for weeks straight. But they'd disappeared once he'd started working at Camp Rock, and he'd all but forgotten them until now.

Knowing sleep was highly unlikely now, Shane sighed. Four and a half hours until he could acceptably get out of bed and go downstairs.

He let his eyes close and tried to cut off his thoughts, to clear his mind so he could sleep, but there was too much to think about.

He thought of Connect Three, of how thankful he was to have band mates—brothers—like Nate and Jason who knew what he needed and made sure he got it, whether he liked it or not. He thought of how lucky they were that the label was giving them another chance to prove themselves to the world.

And he thought of Mitchie.

His miracle, he thought. She'd come out of nowhere and shown him the kind of friendship that he'd never had. The kind of friendship he hadn't known existed, especially with a girl. She saw through his rough outer shell and helped the real him shine through it. She was, in every sense of the word, his miracle.

He was in love with her, he realized. There was no questioning it, she owned his heart now. Did he have hers?

His head turned at an almost inaudible creak from the door as it was cautiously pushed open.

"Shane?" a familiar voice whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," he breathed. It was her, it was Mitchie. "What's going on?" he whispered back, sitting up slightly in his bed.

She stepped in and gently pushed the door closed behind her. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted, dropping her gaze to her feet. "I thought maybe you wouldn't mind if—I mean, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but—"

"Come here," he interrupted, and held his arms out for her. She walked slowly to him, and when he could reach her, he pulled her down so she was sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. "You can sleep here," he offered, and smiled at the relief that spread across her face.

"Thanks," she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

He held her close to him, stroking her hair gently and not wanting to ever let go. He could feel the tension in her, in the unsteadiness of her breathing, the irregular beat of her heart. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Mitchie, what's going on?" he pushed her back gently so he could see her face. Her eyes sparkled with what he recognized as tears about to fall.

She shook her head, no, and he pulled her back to him as her body began to shake with quiet sobs. Puzzled and desperate to comfort her, Shane continued to stroke her hair as he whispered to her, it's alright, you're okay, I'm here.

When her breathing came easier, she pulled back from him and fixed her eyes on a spot on the floor by her foot. "Shane, I…" she began, and, embarrassed, stopped.

He gave her a moment, but she didn't continue. "What's going on, Mitchie?" he asked again.

"I couldn't sleep," she told him again. "I was thinking about a lot of things. But mostly I was thinking about you," she admitted and was thankful that it was still dark, so he couldn't see the red that flushed to her cheeks. "About how badly we started things, and how it could have turned out. How it would have turned out," she corrected, "if you hadn't been so forgiving. It scared me to think that I might not have you now. I need you, Shane. Maybe you don't need me, but I need you."

He stayed silent for a minute. "I do," he decided, and smiled. "I do need you. I can't explain how, or why. I wasn't even going to tell you. But I know that I need you more than anything I've ever needed anything." He waited a beat, watched her carefully for her reaction. "And I—love you."

Her eyes widened, and he smiled sheepishly. "Last summer, you were the light in a world that was crashing down around me. I was losing it, pulling myself away from everything that I had been and wanted to be. Then you came along and pushed me back in the right direction. No, I met you, and you _were_ the right direction. You were the light," he repeated quietly, speaking more to himself now than to her. "Maybe this is a little more than you came in here asking for, but it's the truth, Mitchie. I love you."

It was good that she knew, he assured himself. She was supposed to know. But why wasn't she saying anything? Why was her face still frozen in surprise?

"Say something," he murmured, "so I don't feel like I just made a big mistake. Please."

Still, she didn't say anything. Instead, she locked her eyes to his and saw in them that he meant every word of what he had said. And, sure of herself now, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

When she started to pull away, he lifted his hands to her face and pulled her back, pulled her body closer to his. Letting her go now would be stupid, he thought as he felt her finally relax against him.

Now he pushed her gently away and studied her face. Her eyes remained closed and her lips slightly parted, so that she looked like she could have been sleeping. Then her eyes opened and her mouth closed, and he dropped his hands. She smiled.

"I love you, too," she finally said, and every worry that he'd had disappeared, every tense nerve in him relaxed. She was his as much as he was hers, he thought as he lowered his head to his pillow to make more room for her. She laid back beside him and curled up on her side facing him. "Why were you awake, by the way?" she asked.

"Same reason as you," he said simply. "Think we can get to sleep now?"

"Absolutely," she grinned before closing her eyes and letting herself drift into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
